The former lake-bed, as green as it's namesake in the summer, was white-washed by snow. A chill wind meandered through the valley, overlooking the single blemish on the pristine terrain.
Curled up in a sheltered dip in the land, sleeping off an earlier meal of rabbit and partridge, was the large dark form of Loki. He'd spent the morning hunting with great success, and was taking a well-earned nap to celebrate. His tail was twitching, cat-like, as he dreamt. Those brilliantly hued green eyes closed, ears relaxed to the sides.
A quite picturesque scene, to be sure. In sleep Loki's haughty features softened, his black fur fluffed around him like a plush blanket. Almost child-like in the innocence, the teddy-bear quality of the sleeping wolf lulling one into believing that he could be safe to approach, even cuddle with.
